


cantina band and chill

by evotter



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, I seem to like those, Peter says Fuck, anyway, literally a crack fic, rating is coz the guardians are pottymouths and so is peter parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25713514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evotter/pseuds/evotter
Summary: It’s nearly three in the morning when Tony Stark’s phone goes off, buzzing against the nightstand before the screen lights up. In the haze of his half-awake state, he manages to make out the blurry shape of Peter’s caller ID, and really wishes this kid would get some goddamn sleep every once in a while.With a groan, he puts the phone to his ear, speaking softly to avoid waking Pepper. “Pete,” he says, closing his eyes again. “What’s goin’ on?”“We figured it out.” Peter says excitedly. He’s too loud for Tony’s liking.“Uh huh.” Tony mumbles. “Congrats. Figured what out, exactly?”“Star Wars.” he breathes. “It’s real.”Tony pulls the phone away from his ear and hangs up without another thought. “Jesus Christ.” he says, and immediately goes back to sleep.
Relationships: Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Guardians of the Galaxy Team, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 27
Kudos: 200





	cantina band and chill

**Author's Note:**

> bruh i don't even KNOW what this is so please just... bear with me. i tried to make it ~realistic~ but it's still definitely a crackfic so.
> 
> (also i've seen some headcanons where peter's spidey abilities prevent him from getting intoxicated, like the super serum does with steve.... while alcohol is not a HUGE factor in this fic, i just wanna make it known that i do not really support that headcanon. thank u)
> 
> PS: the summary is the beginning of the fic. i just took it out of the actual fic itself coz it was just repetitive to see immediately after u clicked on it, yk? anyway. it starts 5 hours before the summary if that makes sense HAHAHAH

**5 HOURS EARLIER** **  
** **10:00PM EST, PETER’S BEDROOM, QUEENS, NY**

In Peter’s defense, he is pretty drunk. And it’s entirely Ned’s fault.

Don’t get him wrong; he _likes_ college, he does, but he loves the weekends when he gets to visit home and see his friends. Plus, he leaves the Nano-suit in his dorm, so it’s nice to break out the old blue-and-red spandex every once in a while, if the opportunity presents itself. When he’s back at May’s, he just gets the weekend to see his aunt, relax, and not have to worry about schoolwork.

Until, of course, the inevitable happens—and like a true dumbass, Peter forgets that he has a Saturday night paper due on the possibilities of other galaxies with advanced life forms.

“Fuck.” he says, while Ned laughs his ass off at a story Michelle is halfway through over Facetime. “Shit. I’m so dead.”

“You _have_ to start checking for weekend assignments before you decide to partake in illegal activity.” Michelle says, rolling her eyes from Ned’s laptop.

“Shut up.” Peter fires back, reaching for his computer. “This one’s Ned’s fault.”

“Excuse me?” Ned blinks. “It is not! Who had the alcohol stored under his bed?”

“For the _last time,_ it is _not mine_ —”

“Then why was it in your room?”

“Tony _put_ it there—”

“You’re full of shit, Peter.” Michelle interrupts. She leans back on the camera, reaching for a bag of chips. “How can we help with your assignment?”

“Do you know anything about the theory that there are galaxies lightyears away that have similar life forms?” he asks, opening an empty document. “Scientists have theorized that these galaxies may have human life forms and could be as advanced as us. They’re just too far away for us to be able to detect them.”

“I’m a political science major, not a nerd.” she answers. Peter can almost feel the heat of her stare through the computer screen. 

“Thanks for asking for no reason, then.”

“I didn’t think you’d believe I was serious.”

“I’m desperate. Give me a break.”

“You’re friends with, like, all the Avengers, aren’t you?” Ned points out. “Just, like, call one of them. Thor. He’s from a different realm. He’d probably know the most.”

“Thor doesn’t have a _phone,”_ Peter responds. “Or maybe he does, but he won’t give me his phone number.”

“That’s because you’re a loser.” Michelle offers. She only grins when Peter glares at her. “Can I continue my story now, please?”

She starts talking before Peter can even respond. He moves back to lean against the edge of his bed and props his laptop up. He’s doing great in his classes, so _technically_ he could get away with a zero on this paper, but… May would kill him. And then Tony would kill him. And then Steve would also probably kill him. And the rest of the Avengers. Maybe not Bruce. But he’s got, like, 7 PhD’s, so he’d probably be pissed that Peter chose not to do an assignment that involved something that he most likely is knowledgeable about. So maybe also Bruce.

Basically, if he _doesn’t_ do this assignment, he’s dead like a million times over.

He looks at his phone. He’s got two hours til midnight, so he’s crunched for time. Would Thor even be able to help? He _is_ from a different realm, but his assignment isn’t about _realms._ Galaxies are different. And any sort of proof Thor would have had would have been destroyed on Asgard. Plus, Peter’s pretty not sober. He thinks being intoxicated in the presence of the god of thunder would be disrespectful.

Not realms. Galaxies.

Galaxies. _Galaxy…_

“Holy shit!” Peter cries, diving for his dresser. It’s _somewhere_ in here, and he knows it, he just doesn’t necessarily remember _where_ —he’s got too much stuff, and he knows it, but he’s barely home enough to clean it out anyway. Maybe he should steal DUM-E from Tony’s workshop and enlist the robot arm to do it for him.

“You’re so annoying.” Michelle says from Ned’s laptop, making a face as Peter searches through the drawer. “Did you know that?”

“Thanks, Em,” says Peter dryly. “Love you too.”

As he says it, his fingers close around the small device. The screen lights up when he presses the button, thank _God_ —he’s got no idea what kind of technology Rocket used on this thing, but it’s worked ever since he threw it into Peter’s hands. Granted, he’s only used it twice. He hopes they’re not on some planet with a drastically different timezone.

“No way.” Ned breathes. Out of all of Peter’s superhero friends, Ned has a particular fondness for the people on the other end of that communicator. “You think they’ll help you?”

“What do you mean?” Peter snorts. He sits back down a little clumsily, his head spinning a little less than it had been twenty minutes ago. “They _love_ me.”

“Lying is a sin, Parker.” Michelle comments.

Peter ignores her as he looks at the communicator. There are three buttons. He kind of forgets which ones do which. All he knows is that it works like a pager—because when he’d asked Rocket if it _was_ a pager, he’d given him a look, said, _“What the hell is a pager? Are you stupid? It’s called a communicator,”_ and had refused to answer any more of Peter’s questions.

Okay, so maybe not _all_ of them love Peter. But most of them do.

(It depends on how many useless items Rocket has stolen that week.)

Michelle has gone back to talking to Ned like Peter doesn’t even exist. His laptop says that ten minutes have passed since he realized that he’s got a paper due. _Man,_ he sucks. This is the last time Peter’s gonna have to scramble to get an assignment done.

(If he said that out loud, Michelle would declare that statement a fucking lie. He’d probably agree.)

Peter hopes that the Guardians aren’t in the middle of some big galactic battle. He also wonders what his professor will say when he sees their names on his reference sheet. He might have to have some kind of proof as back up. 

Without another thought, he presses down on the call button, and waits for the Guardians to answer.

=

**10:15PM EST, PETER’S BEDROOM, QUEENS**

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Isn’t it time you die?” Peter fires back. 

Quill is silent on the small hologram. His expression is both offended and confused.

“Oh.” Sometimes, Peter forgets that he talks to superheroes who have _no_ idea what a current pop culture reference is. Quill’s stuck in the eighties. He’s gotta remember that. And also, he’s gotta remember to find a way to hook the Guardians up with Netflix because he’s pretty sure they’d enjoy _Stranger Things._ “Sorry. It’s a quote from a show. I’ll show you sometime. Anyway—I need your help.”

“What do you want?” Quill asks. In the background, without seeing her face, Peter hears the shrill voice of Mantis: _“Is that Peter Parker?”_

“How good are those scanners on _the_ _Benatar?”_ Peter asks, leaning back as he bit his lip. “For being able to detect life forms in other galaxies.”

“Pretty good.” Quill replies. He shrugs. “Why?”

“I, uh, have a paper due that I forgot about. Pretty much about that topic.”

“I don’t know, kid, that sounds like it’s gonna make my head hurt, and I really don’t feel like actin’ smart today—”

“Shut _up,_ Peter.” Gamora comes into view, annoyance in her gaze but a smile on her face. “Hey, Peter Parker. How are you?”

“I’m great, Gamora.” Peter smiles back. “You heard that, right? Is there any way you can show me your scanner? Help me out?”

“We can do better than that,” she promises. “How about you come on the ship and see it for yourself?”

His eyes widen. “You serious?”

Gamora shrugs like it’s no big deal. Beside her, Quill rolls his eyes. “We’re in the area. We can grab you and you can come on up.”

“Oh, wow. Sure.” God, he loves the Guardians. “Oh, but—Ned’s here. Can he come too?”

“Sure.” Gamora just smiles at him. “Meet you on the roof in five minutes.”

She ends the connection. Peter, taking advantage of Michelle’s snack break, says, “Hey, Em, we gotta go.”

“What?” Michelle frowns at him. “Why?” He just grins sheepishly, and in response, her eyes narrow in suspicion. “You ass,” she grumbles.

“Why do we have to go?” Ned turns to him. “Where _are_ we going?”

“Don’t shit your pants.” Peter says seriously. “We’re going to space.”

=

 **10:25PM EST,** ** _THE_** **_BENATAR_** **, SPACE**

“Holy shit.” Ned says. He’s been saying it for the past five minutes. “We’re in _space.”_

“Don’t,” says Quill, as Mantis begins to tentatively reach a hand out towards Ned’s shoulder. “C’mon, Mantis. We don’t need two of _that_.”

“Holy shit.” Ned says again.

“Okay, what am I looking at?” Peter crosses his arms as Gamora fires up the map. There are several clusters brighter than others, all pulsating as the hologram shines. 

“There are _hundreds_ of galaxies out there, Peter.” Gamora explains. “Your science knows that. This is ours—and it’s _huge._ It would take thousands of jumps to reach anything outside of our galaxy. That roughly translates to days of travel, depending on where you’re trying to go.”

“But it’s possible?” Peter asks.

“Of course it’s _possible._ It’s more common than it sounds, too.” she swipes her hand through the hologram and the image changes, zooming out of the Milky Way galaxy. “The knowledge of space that Earth possesses is _fractional_ compared to what’s there. Come _on._ There have been alien sightings on Earth, but even to this day your entire planet isn’t fully aware that they aren’t the only life forms in the galaxy.”

That’s true. Reform takes a long time. Especially with all of the battles that have happened since Peter became Spider-Man. “Have you ever been to another galaxy?”

“Personally, no.” Gamora leans against the table. As Peter watches the hologram, he decides that NASA telescopes have _nothing_ on alien technology. “But… my father did.” 

Peter doesn’t need Mantis to touch the green-skinned woman to know exactly how she’s feeling. It’s been over a year since Thanos, but sometimes it feels like only a week has passed. “This is crazy,” he says, attempting to change the topic to get her mind off of it. “The amount of technology that you guys have… I mean, we’re pretty advanced on Earth, but… who _knows_ how much more is out there? Well, actually, obviously some aliens know what’s out there ‘cause you guys have the technology to travel there, but… whatever, you know what I’m saying, right?”

“I know what you’re saying.” Gamora promises. A smile returns to her face, albeit a small one. “Here. You know that the solar system—the planets closest to Earth—lie within the spiral of this galaxy. You call it the Milky Way.”

“Right.” Peter nods. 

“This is another galaxy, the closest to yours.” she swipes at the screen again. “While it is reachable, it takes twenty-five Earth years to reach it with a lightspeed engine. Our ship doesn’t have one, but big freighters do. The Kree invented the lightspeed engine using the Tesseract back during the Skrull wars.”

“Why does everything always involve the Tesseract?” Peter groans. Then something registers in his mind. He blinks. “Wait. You said _lightspeed_ engine? As in, you can make the jump to lightspeed? Like in _Star Wars?”_

“I don’t know what the Star Wars are.” Gamora says seriously.

Quill does, apparently, because he materializes on the other side of Gamora like he just appeared out of thin air. “They’re movies. I’ll show them to you sometime.” he tells her. To Peter, he says, “Yes, like in _Star Wars._ Not that those movies really have an accurate representation of space, but—”

“Wait.” Peter repeats. The pieces are clicking together in his mind like puzzle pieces. “But this—this means you have the _technology_ that was presented in those films. And, like, aliens have always been around, even when we didn’t know. So, like, there could have been aliens on Earth in the seventies.” He literally feels like he’s _vibrating_ with excitement. “Dude, what if George Lucas is an alien? What if he was, like, telling stories from his galaxy? What if—”

Quill holds up his hands. “Woah. _First_ of all, you’re talking way too fast and I can’t keep up. Second of all, George Lucas is _not_ an alien. You’re getting way too excited and it’s killing the vibe. Third, personally, I think that _Star Trek_ is way better.”

Peter stares at him. “Bullshit.” he says. “You take that back, Quill. You’re a traitor. That’s _traitor_ talk.”

“I’m not _taking it back.”_ Quill glares at him. “I said _personally._ It’s my opinion and this is my ship, I’m the captain—”

“Nope,” says Rocket, which is the first word he’s said since Peter’s been on board.

“—and I refuse to apologize for my _correct_ opinions.” 

“Considering the fact that you believe _Footloose_ is the greatest movie of all time, I think your _opinions_ are invalid.” Peter retorts. Quill opens his mouth to retort, looking indignant, but he turns back to Gamora, who is watching the interaction with an amused smile on her face. “Do you have, like, a catalog of known planets? Like, with coordinates and stuff?”

“I’ll see what I can find for you.” Gamora promises him. “There’s some more logs up by the navigation. I’ll be right back.” 

In the meantime, Mantis, who has been sitting with Ned in the corner where Drax normally keeps his Zarg-Nuts, is now wide-eyed as she looks around the entire ship. “Holy _shit,”_ she says, in the same tone Ned had when they’d first arrived. 

“All right, that’s it,” says Quill. “This is the last time we let Terrans on the ship.”

=

 **11:55PM EST, STILL THE** **_BENATAR_** **, STILL IN SPACE**

“Done!” Peter shouts, an unbelievable feeling of relief rushing through him as the submission pushes through. “Surprisingly, you guys have _great_ service up here.”

“You’re welcome,” says Rocket, which is the second (and third) word he’s said since Peter’s been on board. 

He shuts his laptop with a satisfied exhale and pushes it back into his bag. Ned is passed out in the Zarg-Nuts corner, snoring lightly. Drax is sitting on the chair Mantis had been on. By the slightly-murderous look in his eyes, Peter wonders if he’s hungry. He’s pretty sure Drax wouldn’t hurt his best friend. Then again, he’s never really had a conversation with Drax. So who knows.

“We’re glad we could help with it, Peter.” Gamora says, glancing at Rocket as the raccoon returns to his place beside Groot. 

Peter’s glad, too. He’d put _Guardians of the Galaxy_ on his references page, with a _via Tony Stark_ right next to it. He’s done a lot of those. Mostly because it’s hard to explain how he’s hanging out with aliens on a spaceship, and it’s _way_ easier to say “Oh, yeah, I’m an intern for Tony Stark and he hooks me up with sources for my papers sometimes.” And although he’s fairly sure that most of his professors still don’t believe him, they’ve never given him a shit grade based on his references.

“We should get you back home.” Quill mutters. He’s still sulking ever since Peter not only insulted his favorite film, but also apparently his favorite franchise. Peter’s not really worried, because he’s pretty sure the mood swing will be over by the next time Peter asks for their help. He knows the Guardians aren’t really the sentimental type when it comes to anyone other than the people who all-but live on _the_ _Benatar,_ but he also knows that they’re a little nicer to him than anyone else on the team. That makes him feel important. Plus, the Guardians are fun as hell.

(Sometimes they’re more fun to be around than Tony. But if Peter _ever_ admitted that out loud, Tony would somehow find out and _definitely_ kill him.)

“Yeah, that’d be cool.” Peter answers. Ned wakes himself up from his snoring and sits up straight, blinking. Literally _seconds_ after, Drax darts forward, grabbing food from his stash and walking away as Ned stares after him. Peter hears the crinkling of a bag opening from a part of the ship he can’t see and he cracks a smile.

“Feel free to use the hologram if you just want to do a little more exploring.” Gamora offers as she takes her seat beside Quill. “Maybe one day we’ll take you planet hopping.”

“No, we won’t.” Quill says immediately. “Traitors aren’t allowed on _the_ _Benatar.”_

“Yes, we will.” she responds. Quill grumbles to himself and then punches coordinates into the screen in front of him.

Peter’s smile widens. 

(Yep. Definitely more fun.)

(Don’t tell anyone or Tony will kill him.)

=

**12:43AM EST, PETER’S APARTMENT COMPLEX, QUEENS, NY**

The Guardians disappear into the night sky in their brightly colored spaceship, leaving Peter and Ned standing on the roof. They take the staircase down to Peter’s apartment, carefully creep past May’s closed door, and return to his bedroom. Peter sets his bag down and exhales, closing the door after Ned walks through. 

“Have fun?” 

Peter nearly shits his pants. Michelle is staring at him from the laptop, still set up in the same place as it had been before they left.

Peter blinks and then turns to stare at Ned. “Did you seriously just leave the laptop on this whole time?”

“What?” Ned says defensively. “You said _space._ I reacted quickly. It’s charging. It’s not a big deal.”

He rounds on the laptop. “So you’ve just been sitting here? In silence? Why didn’t you hang up?”

“The wall was better company than the two of you.” Michelle says casually. She stares at them for another minute. Then she says, “I’m going now,” throws up a peace sign, and hangs up. 

=

**2:16AM EST, PETER’S BEDROOM, QUEENS, NY**

For some reason, Peter starts dreaming about Rocket coming into his bedroom and waking him up. He’s not really sure why. Then, after a few minutes, he realizes it’s not a dream. The talking raccoon is deadass hovering in front of him, slapping his face with his hand—paw?—and repeating the same words over and over again. “Wake up, kid. Wake the _fuck_ up. You’re a rock. I’m gonna hit you again. Wake up.”

Peter sits up, carefully making sure he doesn’t hit his head on the ceiling above him. He reaches up to rub at his eyes, leaning over to catch sight of the clock on the bedside table. It’s two in the morning. What the hell? “How did you get in here?” he asks, keeping his voice down. Ned is snoring on the bunk below them.

“The window was open, dipshit.” Rocket just shakes his head, like Peter’s the biggest idiot he’s ever come across. “Come on. Quill’s got something to show you.”

It takes him a minute to climb down from the bunk. He throws on the clothes he was wearing earlier in the day and follows Rocket out of the window, climbing up the fire escape back to the roof. It occurs to him then that the Guardians literally _came back_ for something. Which is something they _never_ do. 

Quill and Gamora are standing by the illuminated hologram when Peter walks onto their ship. They're the only two in sight; the minute Peter's on board, Rocket scurries off to some other part of the ship. Gamora beckons him over wordlessly when she sees him, stepping back so Peter can stand where she was. 

“Look at this.” Quill says, as Peter approaches him. He pushes at the hologram like Gamora had earlier, and the image begins to focus on a planetary system. “We found that catalog thingy you wanted, and I decided to just search for shits. Look.”

With sleep still slightly clouding his gaze, Peter squints at the screen. It takes him a couple of seconds to realize that the tiny blurs beside the small shiny dots are _words_ —they’re names of planets, and the small dots are the planets. They don’t really vary in size, but there are a lot of them, all presumably far away. After staring at one of the words, he blinks and it suddenly makes sense. It reads—

“No _fucking_ way.” Peter blurts out. “This is a joke. You’re shitting me.”

“Am definitely _not_ shitting you.” Quill says seriously. “This is real. It’s, like, a hundred years away, but it’s real. At least these planets are. Who knows the state of life in that galaxy, but—”

“This has to be a joke.” Peter repeats. He’s still dreaming. He’s gotta be.

“Not a joke.” Quill promises. “Look. If I zoom out, look what else pops up.”

Peter looks at all the new planets popping up as the hologram expands. He literally might shit his pants. He feels like Ned. This is insane. He stands in place as Quill moves the hologram in and out. Peter’s not completely up-to-date with the lore, but he recognizes most of the names of planets from novelizations and movies. There are some things not labelled on the map, but Peter can make them out anyway; he sees the sketches of the trade routes, the black hole at the center of the entire galaxy, the different sectors and star systems. He literally doesn’t know what to say. This is like, straight up out of a fucking movie or something.

“Well?” Quill says encouragingly. He looks like he’s just discovered something life-changing, which he basically has. “What do you think? It checks out?”

Peter _literally_ doesn’t know what to say. There are a lot of words jumbling up in his brain. He might puke. He wants to say _Are you fucking kidding me of course it checks out holy shit._ Or something like that. 

But Peter Parker opens his mouth and all that comes out is, “I _told_ you George Lucas is a fucking alien.”

**Author's Note:**

> idk anyway somewhere a fictional peter parker is celebrating and in a galaxy far far away they have no idea he exists


End file.
